


Whatever It Takes (I Know We Can Make It Through)

by kenjideath



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Control, Desperation, Forgiveness, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Slave, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5859970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenjideath/pseuds/kenjideath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth says that he'll do anything to win back Dean's trust. Dean intends to test him on that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever It Takes (I Know We Can Make It Through)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neffectual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neffectual/gifts).



“You get one chance at this,” Dean said. He couldn’t believe he was doing this at all. “You’re fucking lucky I’m giving you this much, so I don’t want to have to tell you again.”

Seth was pale faced but determined. It was weird to see him back here, in one of the out-of-the-way locker rooms they’d favored back in the Shield. Then again, it was unlikely Seth would be welcome in the Authority’s plush rooms now that he had pedigreed the shit out of Triple H on live TV. Dean had to bite back a smile at the thought of it; his first week back on television and Seth was already making enemies. That was his boy.

“I know,” Seth said. “I told you, I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. Nothing is more important to me right now.”

Dean wasn’t sure that he believed him, but he wasn’t sure that he didn’t believe him either. “You’re going to do what I say, when I say it,” Dean told him. “No questions, no negotiations. If I tell you to jump, you fucking jump and I’ll let you know if it was high enough. Got it?”

Seth nodded, his mouth a grim line. “I’ve got it,” he said. “I won’t let you down this time, I promise.”

Dean didn’t believe in easy starts or slow escalation. He believed in starting at the top of the cage. “Piss yourself,” he said. Seth stared at him with wide eyes. He opened his mouth, then realized that he wasn’t allowed to ask questions. “C’mon, it’s not like you’re under the ring or nothing,” Dean prompted.

Seth bit his lip and dropped his eyes. Dean was about to kick him out, gloat that he’d known Seth wasn’t serious, when he heard the soft patter of dripping water. The front of Seth’s sweats were rapidly darkening, and he must have had his dick pushed to the left, because a nice little stream was running down his pant leg to puddle on the floor. After a long moment, the stream tapered off, and there was no sound in the room except for Seth’s labored breathing.

“Was that enough?” Seth asked finally. “I haven’t re-hydrated after the show yet, I could go drink more…”

Dean let out a harsh exhale and blatantly reached down to adjust his cock. Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible idea, after all.

\---

The next time they road together, Dean cheerfully dumped a whole case of water into the back seat. Seth eyed it warily as he climbed into the front passenger seat, but had the good sense not to say anything.

Dean whistled as he drove. He hadn’t felt this good in ages. Once they were on the highway, he ordered, “Down one of those bottles.”

Seth wriggled around in his seat and pried one out. Dean adjusted the rear view mirror to watch Seth’s throat as he swallowed. When Seth was finished, he dropped the empty bottle on the floor and folded his hands in his lap. Dean let himself smirk. Seth had no fucking idea what he was in for.

“Another one,” Dean said, and Seth obeyed, easy as anything.

Two water bottles later, Seth was squirming in his seat, staring longingly at every rest stop they blew past. Dean could see the exact moment it dawned on him, that he wasn’t going to be made to piss himself in the car, just wish that he could. Very slowly and deliberately, Seth folded his legs.

When Seth’s top leg was jiggling non-stop, Dean was starting to feel it a bit himself, so he started looking for a nice wooded area to pull over at. Seth perked up, his relief palpable. Dean struggled to hide his glee. Oh, pretty boy had no clue what he was in for.

“C’mon,” Dean said. “Piss break.” He left the car and pretended not to notice Seth almost wiping out in his hurry to leave. Dean took his time, trying to find a tree he liked the look of, ignoring the small, careful steps Seth was making behind him.

Finally, Dean said, “Alright, this looks good,” and then, before Seth could even start fumbling with his belt, he added, “Get on your knees.”

Seth froze, then sank, very, very slowly, to the ground. Dean had to look away so he wouldn’t chub up too much and cut off his ability to piss. He shoved his belt open, undid his fly, tugged his cock out without bothering to push down his underwear. “Open up,” he said, and he didn’t think it was his imagination that made Seth’s eyes look a little wet when he complied.

Pissing straight into that open mouth was better than goddamn heroin. Dean never needed to take part in a steel cage match again; this was the purest form of revenge ever invented. The undisguised disgust on Seth’s face, the way he choked as he tried to swallow fast enough to keep up with Dean’s stream, the drips and rivulets of piss that ran over his face when he failed… all of it worked together to crank Dean’s relief up to full-blown ecstasy. When Dean’s stream ran dry, he took a moment to just watch as Seth panted, wet and messy on the ground. Dean could feel the physical weight of Seth’s longing as he shook off his emptied cock and tucked it away.

Dean clapped suddenly, making Seth jump, then flinch when his jump obviously jostled his bladder. “Alright,” Dean said brightly. “That’s enough fucking around. We’re on a schedule, here.”

This time, Dean didn’t slow down for Seth, and was already buckled up and fiddling with the radio when Seth shuffled in, exhausted with drying streaks of Dean’s piss on his face.

Dean tossed him another water bottle. It hit Seth square in the bladder, making him cry out and scramble to hold his crotch. “Drink up,” Dean said, voice cheerful and bright, and peeled off toward the main road while Seth forced himself to take little sips of water.

\---

Dean didn’t really have an endgame for this experiment, just wanted to see Seth struggling and taken apart, so it wasn’t altogether a surprise when Seth gasped explosively and shoved a hand down his pants to pinch his cockhead.

“What? What?” Dean said, practically giddy with excitement. “Are you leaking? Are you letting all that hot piss dribble out of your little cock?” Seth pounded his free hand on the window, but in strain, not in anger. His whole face was scrunched up with the effort of not letting go all over the rental car. “Did it feel good?” Dean prompted. “Letting just a little bit of pressure out? Did you like letting your tight slit open up, the _rush_ as it spurted out –”

Seth sobbed, a high, desperate noise. “Dean, I can’t hold it much longer,” he gasped out. His head was bent over so his hair obscured his face, which was good because Dean didn’t think he’d be able to keep his eyes on the road otherwise. “I’m trying so hard, I want to be good for you,” Seth _begged_ , it was _delicious_ , “but I can’t – my body won’t – ” The frustrated howl Seth let out made Dean’s toes curl. The cute little wet spot at the crotch of Seth’s pants was a fucking delight.

Dean made a show of letting out an exasperated sigh. “Well, fine, if you’re too much of a bitch to do it on your own, I guess I can give you a hand,” he said. Seth started gasping out thank you’s so fast his words tripped over themselves, became just mumbled nonsense. “Get your dick out,” Dean ordered.

It didn’t take long – Seth was wearing sweatpants again – and Dean couldn’t resist taking a look once he could, relishing the sight of Seth’s soft, damp, little cock, practically cringing in his hands.

“Okay,” Dean said, “now get yourself hard.” The pause before Dean heard the wet slapping sounds that meant he was being obeyed went on a little too long, but Dean let it slide. The sight of Seth trying to coax his agonized organ into hardness was just too delicious.

As a reward for not asking any of the questions that must have been pounding away in his head, Dean said, “There’s lube and nipple clamps in the glove compartment, if you want ‘em.”

Seth did want them. The next time Dean came to a stoplight, he gave himself the luxury of drinking the sight in. Seth was leaning back in his chair, eyes squeezed closed, band shirt hitched up so his nipples could be pinched nice and red. He’d apparently spilled the lube on himself because his whole lap was slick with it. He was stroking himself slowly, only using two fingers of one hand, mostly stimulating the sensitive glans. His other hand was twisting one of the clamps, a movement that sent visible little jerks through his cock.

Seth was barely three-quarters hard, but that would be enough to block him, at least for the time being.

A cacophony of honks jerked Dean back to awareness. The light had turned green. He kept driving. Seth’s hitching little breaths were better than any radio station he’d ever managed to get in the continental 48.

\---

Of course, even biological life hacks couldn’t last forever. Forty minutes from the hotel, Seth’s breathing kicked up until he was full on panting. He started really jerking himself off, giving full tugs to his dick, which swelled even bigger. Seth started twitching his hips up in tiny thrusts. They must have been involuntary because they jostled his bladder something awful. Before long, there were full tears dripping from his eyes, mingling with the remnants of Dean’s piss that were still there, dried to his skin.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Seth keened out. “I don’t know – I don’t think I can –” and then his whole body jerked, practically convulsed, he was coming but also –

“Holy fucking shit,” Dean said. Seth had clearly gone too far in trying to keep himself hard and slipped over the edge, because he was ejaculating like a motherfucker, but his body had been kept waiting as long it was willing to. Even before he was done coming – even before his dick got all the way soft – piss started spurting out of Seth in an uncontrolled torrent. Seth was still thrashing and twisting from the sensation overload, so it got _everywhere_ , splattering all over the rental car. It was a thing of goddamn beauty.

When Seth was finally drained, Dean told him to take the clamps off and tuck himself away.

“’S a good thing I don’t really like this rental place, huh?” Dean asked. Seth’s laughter sounded like sobs, but it was still laugher. Dean allowed it.

\---

Dean handled returning the rental car himself, but he made Seth walk to the hotel room without cleaning up at all, reeking of his own jizz and urine. By the time that Dean talked down the rep – and paid the exorbitant cleaning fee, Jesus – and made it back to the room, Seth was already taking the shower Dean had permitted him. When Seth came out in a cloud of steam, he looked softer than usual, more vulnerable. Dean felt weirdly affectionate toward him.

They had two queens, but in the middle of the night Dean was restless and crawled in with Seth. Dean pulled Seth into position as the little spoon, the way he liked it, and pressed gentle kisses to his shoulder blades.

“You did a great job today,” Dean mumbled into the smooth skin. Seth thanked him, and they both slept like babies.

\---

On Smackdown, Seth was prepping for his match, rooting around for a water bottle to wet his hair, when Dean had a great idea.

“Hey, knees,” Dean said, and Seth was quick to get into position at Dean’s feet. He opened his mouth, but Dean just said, “Head down,” so Seth closed it and complied. When Dean started to piss on his head, the sound Seth made was a whine of pure surprise.

Dean had always appreciated how good Seth looked wet, but this was on another level. His hair weighed down and slick, sending little droplets scurrying down his shirt, the harsh smell of it… “Don’t you just look good enough to eat,” Dean said, and Seth shuffled closer, hid his face in Dean’s calf.

Seth went out and wrestled like that, soaked with Dean’s pee and tranquil from his presence. His match was against Alberto Del Rio, who definitely noticed. Del Rio spent the last half of the match with his face screwed up in disgust, trying to wipe his hand off on the mat.

Dean didn't make them leave straight for the next town, this time. Instead, he ordered Seth to take a nice, hot bath and called room service for some of Seth’s favorites. When Seth shuffled out of the bathroom, wrapped in the robe Dean had given him, his eyes widened at the spread, and he even gave Dean a shy smile. Dean combed Seth’s hair while he ate. Every once in a while, he’d press a kiss to the back of Seth’s neck.

“Okay,” Dean said, hours later, when they were snuggled up in bed together.

“Mmm?” Seth replied, the closest thing to a question he’d attempted since this whole experiment began.

“Okay,” Dean repeated. “I forgive you.”

Seth went still and tense in the circle of Dean’s arms, even the slow rhythm of his breathing gone. When it started again, Dean felt one of Seth’s hands searching until it found his and laced their fingers together.

“Thank you,” Seth said. His voice was rough.

Dean hoped Seth could feel the smile he tucked against his neck. “You’re welcome,” he said. This was the best idea he’d ever had.


End file.
